


Skin Like Paper

by seblaiens



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8201360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seblaiens/pseuds/seblaiens
Summary: He's scared. There is no reason why he should trust Zoran to not end it, right here, right now.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [UC_Prompt_Meme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/UC_Prompt_Meme) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Zoran pressing a knife against Harry's throat while he fucks him.  
> Harry feels it nick his skin and he starts bleeding while taking that cock and he's surprisingly into it.

There's nothing wrong with fucking your boss.

Well, being fucked by your boss – it's not like Harry ever got to top when he's with Zoran, no. He bends over for the other man and gets taken, rather roughly sometimes, until Zoran is done with him and lets him go, no matter if Harry came or not. It's frustrating sometimes, but Harry knows well enough to not complain about it in front of Zoran, in front of anyone, really. They're keeping this thing quiet, and Harry won't lose word about it, knowing he has to stay in Zoran's good graces in order to ensure his survival.

Chloe doesn't seem too bothered about the threat of death hanging over her whenever she's in the same room as Zoran. He's onto her, Harry is sure, is only keeping her around because Harry would refuse to cooperate should anything happen to her. So Zoran takes it out on Harry whenever Chloe disappears – whenever anything happens that makes Zoran mad, really. He's suffered through countless temper tantrums in the privacy of Zoran's room, but it's never been like this before.

It's never been this _violent_.

Zoran is pinning him to the bed, his hand on Harry's throat, holding him down so hard that Harry has trouble breathing. He's feeling rather exposed, completely naked on the bad while Zoran's still wearing all of his clothes, his pants pulled down just far enough to give access to his groin. He's stroking himself to full hardness while he stands between Harry's spreads legs, spreading lube over his cock while he's at it and Harry's glad for that luxury – he already knows how painful it is without, and something tells him that today will be rougher than any of the days before.

He's proven correct when Zoran starts pushing into him, giving Harry no time to adjust to the thickness of his cock, just continuously pressing in until he bottoms out against Harry's body. Harry bites his lip and curls his toes, trying his hardest to not show in how much pain he is; he doesn't need to show Zoran any weakness, has to prove him that he's _capable_. A whimper escapes him when Zoran pulls the knife from his combat gear and holds it up to Harry's face.

“I should take out your eye for your behavior,” Zoran sneers, and Harry recoils in fear when the tip of the knife touches the lower edge of his eye socket, poking into the skin. He tries to push Zoran off him, both of his hands coming up to hold onto his arm, trying to push the knife farther away from his face, a scared whimper leaving his mouth when it only causes Zoran to press harder.

Harry lets out a relived breath when Zoran lowers the knife, just to gulp when it gets pressed against his throat, lightly slicing through his skin. He can feel it, but he knows there's no blood yet – he hopes it's only meant as a power play, showing Harry who is really in charge. To tell him he's been walking too close to the edge of the fine line he's balancing on, trying to keep Zoran happy and Chloe alive.

Zoran starts thrusting into him again, and Harry realizes that, even though he's practically scared _shitless_ , he hasn't lost his erection yet. He let's go of Zoran's arm and reaches between his legs, stroking himself, because he knows Zoran would never in his life sink as low as to deliberately make Harry enjoy himself when they're together. The blade of the knife cuts deeper, and Harry can feel blood starting to trickle down his neck, running down in heavy droplets and leaving a wet feeling on his skin. He can feel the sheets beneath him soak it up.

“I should slit your throat right now.” Zoran's voice is strained, his brows drawn together as he fucks into Harry, a steady, hard pace that has Harry rocking back and forth on the bed. He wraps his legs around Zoran's body to keep himself from sliding away, and Zoran sneers at him, pressing the blade farther down.

Harry yelps, his cock jerking at the pain and _god_ he didn't know _this_ was _thing_ for him. He can feel the sheets beneath him, sticky with his blood, as he tries to turn his head away from the blade – it's getting too deep, too serious, and no matter how good this feels he doesn't want to actually die tonight.

“Please, Zoran,” Harry begs as Zoran follows his movements with the knife. To his surprise Zoran indulges him, taking the knife of his throat, holding it in his hand.

Harry closes his eyes when Zoran pulls his arm back and brings it down fast, aiming for Harry. He opens them again after a few seconds, surprised he doesn't feel any pain.

The knife is stuck in the mattress, buried until the hilt, right next to Harry's head. A few inches to the side and it would have hit him, mutilated him like the burn scars had Zoran so many years ago. Harry takes in a sharp breath, looking at what is sticking out at the knife, the black handle and a tiny shimmer of the blade, his blood slowly drying on it. With a few pumps of his hand he comes, his eyes glued to the shimmer of the red liquid in the shine of the light of the lamp on the bedside table.

He can hear Zoran grunt, the tell time sigh of the other man coming, his hands on Harry's hips gripping tightly and pulling towards him, pumping into him a few more times before pulling out, immediately leaving the room to take a shower. Nothing new there.

The knife is still stuck in the mattress, and Harry wraps his fingers around the grip, pulling it out. His blood is mostly wiped off, just a little of it still gathered just above the hilt.

He turns the knife in his hands before sliding it under the pillow on his side of the bed.

 

Better to be safe than sorry.

 


End file.
